At the Mercy of the Bomb
by msecmccord
Summary: Elizabeth was going to the airport to welcome a young teenager who had just been granted asylum in the United States. Everything was going according to plan until an unknown suicide bomber made an unexpected appearance. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so please bear with me if it's not exactly perfect. I also tried my best with facts based upon granting asylum in the United States, but it's definitely not my area of knowledge, so I gave it my best! Enjoy! (Feedback is always welcome)**

—

"Ma'am?" Nadine entered Elizabeth McCord's office, her stride elevated. "Are you ready to leave for the airport?"

Not that Elizabeth was going anywhere, but rather going to meet and welcome Yasmin Nazari, a sixteen-year-old teenager, who had just been granted asylum in the United States from her abusive family in Akhstan. It was rumored that Yasmin didn't want to follow the tradition of her people by being forced into marriage at a young age and only expected to carry and raise children. That was not the life she wanted. The rest of the world was changing and she wanted desperately to change with it. A video had circled around news broadcasts and social media of Yasmin attending rallies, demanding basic female rights. Her parents were outraged by her behavior and began physically punishing her—a daily regime. This story was already spreading like wildfire across many news stations, national and international. She was to be the first Akhstanian civilian to step on to U.S. soil and it was a welcoming victory for everyone working at the White House and the State Department.

Elizabeth sat back in her chair and took her reading glasses off with a heavy, but relieved sigh.

"I never thought this day would come. To think that this poor girl had to wait months to finally get permission to flee her family and her country–" The Secretary of State closed her eyes, "I can't imagine the fear and insufferable pain she must have endured."

Nadine spoke, "And now she will be safe, thanks to you."

Elizabeth's eyes opened and she let out a wry chuckle. "Well, I definitely had to jump through some fiery hoops with the Department of Homeland Security and USCIS, but I believe a lot of people had a share in this momentous victory."

"You're right, Ma'am. You're most definitely right. We should all be celebrating today." Nadine replied with a beaming smile.

"Ah, speaking of celebrating..." She put her glasses back on. "I may have overheard that the entire 7th floor is throwing some sort of party to celebrate _our_ accomplishment. I don't think I was supposed to know, but they always seem to forget I was a spy, let alone for the CIA. I know everything." She tapped her index finger to the side of her head, a mischievous grin painted across her face.

The Secretary's Chief of Staff couldn't help but laugh at her boss's comedic behavior, which was generally a good sign. It usually meant she had gotten her way and accomplished something on a grand scale or on other occasions, that she was pissed and ready to sever someone's head off.

Elizabeth got up from her chair and reached for her blazer, which was draped behind her.

"Is my motorcade ready?" She shrugged her blazer over her shoulders and left it unbuttoned.

"Yes, Madam Secretary."

"Thank you, Nadine. Will I see you tonight?"

"I wouldn't miss it, Ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled and headed toward the door of her office.

"Oh, and Ma'am. There is a surprise waiting for you in the car." Nadine tantalized.

Elizabeth gave her an exaggerated intrigued expression before leaving the room.

"Okay guys, there better not be a puppy or a pregnant daughter in there." She was pestering her detail for any clue of what this so called surprise might be, but they weren't budging. "Because if it is, I swear–."

Before Elizabeth could finish her demand, Henry stepped out of the vehicle, completely dressed up like he normally would when attending a diplomatic event alongside her.

"Oh my gosh, babe! What are you doing here? I thought you had to leave for some undercover mission this morning?"

"Is it wrong that I can't surprise my wife and accompany her while she is recognized for something of global attainment? I'll just stand off to the side and I won't be in anyone's way."

Henry put his muscular arms around her waist and pulled her in closely before embracing his wife with a sensual kiss.

"Mmm. I'm not going to argue with that." She said, her face only a mere inch away from his.

"We better get going, baby. I don't want to be the one that made you late." Henry brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face.

"We'll continue this later, McCord." Elizabeth hit his chest playfully before getting into the car and Henry followed.

—

A wave of relief washed over Elizabeth as she made it through to the terminal with no intrusions or barricades of people asking questions. However, there was one fan, a six-year-old girl who was traveling with her mother who happened to cross paths with her, — more like ran. Elizabeth noticed the young child approaching her and apparently Matt was also aware. He went to put his body in front of Elizabeth, but she gestured him at him kindly that it was okay.

She crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"And who might you be, young lady?"

The mother followed close behind. "I'm so sorry, Madam Secretary."

It was obvious the child's mother was embarrassed and looked like she wanted to hide in a turtle shell and never come out.

"Oh, it's alright. I adore children!" The Secretary reassured her.

The child held out a children's book about powerful people in Washington D.C. and opened to a page with Elizabeth McCord's photo, pointing to it.

"You're my hero. I want to be like you one day." The girl said shyly.

A smile radiated from Elizabeth's mouth.

"If you follow your dreams and never let anyone tell you what is right and wrong, you can be anything you want to be. Never be afraid to stand up to what you believe in, no matter the cost."

She also looked at the mother, as if she were talking to her as well. Elizabeth reached into her inside her blazer pocket and pulled out a pen and autographed the photo in the child's book before standing back up.

"Thank you so much, Madam Secretary. You have no idea how much this means to her." The mother was beaming.

"The pleasure is all mine."

"Thank you, Madam Secretary." The child echoed her mom.

"You're very welcome."

With that, mother and daughter disappeared amongst the small crowd of travelers.

"The plane is getting ready to unboard, Ma'am." Matt whispered whispered in her ear.

She nodded and took a deep breath. This was really happening. All that hard work and negotiating was finally going to be paid off and a young adult will finally have her freedom. Yasmin would no longer have to fear every minute of every day, fearing for the next blow on her body by her own family.

Elizabeth looked over at Henry, who was standing about twenty feet away from her, and he was looking at her with so much love and adoration. She was also caught in his gaze, so much so that she didn't see the man that approached her at a determined and rapid pace shouting, "Stop the boats!"

It all happened within milliseconds. Elizabeth saw a bright flash that burned her face and knocked her off her feet, throwing her violently backwards towards the floor of the terminal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all your kind reviews! I really appreciate it and it definitely makes me want to continue this story that much more! Just to clarify: Akhstan is a fictional country in the Middle East. Here's chapter 2! Feedback is always welcome!**

**Disclaimer: Again, I do not own any part of Madam Secretary.**

—

A dull, penetrating, high-pitched sound reverberated in her head and her ears. Everything around her was completely silent, even sound of screams and cries for help were inaudible. Her eardrums were perforated. Dust was falling. From where? She couldn't tell. It began to infiltrate her nose, her eyes, her throat. It was getting hard to breathe. Her eyes were on fire.

Elizabeth tried to raise her head, but was overtaken by a throbbing ache pulsing from the back of her head from the brunt of the impact. Everything was frozen for several seconds and it took her a moment to realize what had just taken place.

_Henry? Where's Henry?_

She felt as if she were laying there for minutes...alone. Inordinate fear taking over her body.

Blurry figures hovered over her, their speaking muffled, but she could tell it was arguing.

"I need you to leave, Dr. McCord! There could be more suicide bombers." Matt shouted over the noise of the fire alarms and screams that reverberated all around them.

"I'm not leaving my wife! And I don't care what the protocol may be!" Henry shouted back as if knowing what Matt was going to urge.

A hand gently rested on her forehead and exceeded to brush the hair away from her face. Elizabeth blinked her eyes rapidly a few times to try and relinquish the haze that blocked her eyesight. Slowly, her vision became clear and she realized it was Henry and Matt that were crouched on their knees beside her.

"Madam Secretary? Ma'am?" Her agent was trying his best to keep his composure, exactly like his training had prepared him to do in a situation such as the one they were currently in.

Henry grabbed a hold of her hand and squeezed it tightly. She needed to find a way to let him know she was alright. She had already tried to move her head, but only to cause horrendous pain in the back of her head. If only her brain and muscles would connect. Trying to grapple the temporary paralysis of her limbs and voice caused by shock, Elizabeth used all the energy she had to focus on just moving her hand—nothing else.

_Come on. Move, damn it. Come on!_

"Babe? Elizabeth? Can you hear me?" Henry felt a gentle squeeze in response and his gaze went from his wife to her detail and back to her once more.

"Hey baby. I'm right here. I'm right here." He soothed. "We have to get her out of here." Tears brimming, threatening to fall.

"You don't think I don't know that?" Matt was clearly panicked, his guard down.

"Where's your back up?" Henry asked calming himself, trying to keep both of them composed.

Matt shook his head with a sorrowful expression.

"Damn it. The White House must know by now, right? I mean, every emergency response team must be on their way right this minute." Henry was trying to convince himself that everything was going to turn out fine, but alas, he could hardly choke back his sobs. He definitely wasn't one to cry in front of people, even in front of his daughters, except when they were informed that Elizabeth had survived the coup in Iran, then he let himself break. This was unequivocally one of those moments.

His attention was brought back to Elizabeth when she began coughing and heaving, her entire body spasmodic.

"She's going to vomit. We have to get her on her side." Henry stated rather quickly, leaving no time for emotions to weave their way through his voice.

"But it's dangerous to move her without risk. There could be serious consequences." Matt argued.

It was clear she was struggling and Henry had to make a decision quickly. He had witnessed this before during his service in the Marine Corps. Concussions were an often occurrence, especially lifting heavy objects and working on U.S. Navy ships. Men and women were in the infirmary on a daily basis. If they didn't make it to the infirmary in time for any reason, it ordinarily resulted in them choking to death.

"If we don't move her, she will choke and most certainly die. It's a risk we have to take." He was already trying to roll her upper body, grabbing at her blazer and shoulders.

Matt stepped in and supported her waist, ultimately rolling her on her side just in time. The Secretary heaved a few times before protruding the contents of her stomach.

"That's it, babe." Henry brushed her hair away from her and caressed her face. "Help is on its way."

"H-Henry." Elizabeth croaked.

Relief washed through both Henry and Matt. They weren't out of the woods yet, of course, but the fact that she was now aware of who was with her and speaking was a good sign, right?

"I'm right here. Help is on its way. Just stay with us." His eyes went to the now charred and demolished ceiling as if asking God for help.

Elizabeth's shivering body brought him back and he wasted no time in discarding his own blazer and resting it atop her lean frame. Henry knew these signs all too well.

"She's going into shock." Frantically he began to rub her available arm and back, trying to create any warm friction he could. "My God, I hope they get here soon."

—

_The White House_

"Russel, anything yet?" President Conrad Dalton questioned his Chief of Staff, seemingly very perturbed, while being escorted down into the bunker.

They had just received word about the detonated bomb at Dulles International Airport, but information was being relayed at a very impeded pace and frustration was brewing quickly.

"Service and phone lines are down, which is making it very difficult to communicate with anyone, but we will keep trying, sir." Russel walked quickly alongside him.

"What about the McCord's?" He questioned again.

"We are still trying to get an exact location on them." Russel answered honestly.

"And Yasmin Nazar?"

"She and the rest of the passengers were recently evacuated by members of the SWAT team and are now in a secure location."

President Dalton exhaled heavily. "Was it a dirty bomb?"

"No, not that we are aware of. Information is coming in little bits and pieces and rather slowly, I may add. Speaking of _dirty bomb, _I did hear that the first responders are being told to wait to enter the terminal because a secondary attack has yet to be ruled out. My point being, hopefully, that there are no other surprise attacks because we got lucky last time." Conrad understood what Russel was referring to. It was a welcoming relief when the chance of another explosion was ruled out when the University was attacked.

"There is always that risk, Russel. September 11 changed how we respond to terrorist actions and what protocol must be taken before medical personnel enter the affected area. I may sound like I'm saying this light heartedly, but I want Bess and Henry out of there as quickly as possible, as I'm sure you do, too." There was a slight pause between the two men and Russel noted that Conrad's facial expression had changed from adamant curiosity to overwhelming fear.

In response to his superior's change in demeanor, Russel pulled out his phone in attempt to contact her even though he knew it was useless. Perhaps it made him feel like he at least tried and wasn't giving up on her. That deep down he truly cared.

"Come on, Bess. Answer your damn phone!" He whispered in a vexed whisper.

—

_Dulles International Airport_

Cries for help began to ring out in larger numbers indicating that many were still alive. Henry and Matt knew they had to do something—anything to help the wounded. They couldn't just sit there and wait for professionals. What was taking so long?

"We have to help them." Henry blankly stated to no one in particular.

"You stay with your wife, Dr. McCord. I failed to protect her today, so please let me try and save at least one life." His voice quivered and he quickly cleared his throat to pull himself together.

Before Henry could respond, Matt had already risen to his feet and disappeared into the haze of dust and smoke.

Henry shifted himself so he could carefully cradle her head in his lap. Yes, there were risks with that too, but he already assessed her to check for any signs of paralysis, but fortunately didn't find any. That was good enough for him. If they could roll her onto her side without any complications, surely he could support Elizabeth's head and comfort her. Her breathing was anomalous, but it wasn't shallow anymore.

As Matt made his way through debris and live electrical wires, it became evident how extensive the damage really was. He aided to a few people before he saw a young girl huddled in the corner, wedged in between two chairs. Her face was covered in ash and her round cheeks were tear stained. Matt was careful to approach her as not to startle her more than she already was. He instantly recognized her as the one who approached Elizabeth earlier.

"Hello there, little girl." He said calmly as he squatted down to her.

The child said nothing, but clung a burnt book close to her body.

"Where's your mommy?" Matt honestly thought they had accidentally gotten separated in the chaos, but he was proven wrong when the child pointed to a lifeless body laying facedown only a few feet away.

His heart caught in his throat. No. This can't be! No. No. NO! Matt scrambled over to the mother's side and checked for a pulse. Nothing. Tears began to fall freely down his face. Even for a big tough man like he was, this was too much. His head was spinning with emotions and he couldn't get a hold of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is another chapter for you guys! I tried my best to make everyone react and speak as realistically to the show as I could and that definitely wasn't the easiest task, funnily enough. I did a lot of research regarding the immediate aftermath of a terrorist attack and when it would be safe for emergency personnel to intervene. Unfortunately, it isn't always in minutes following because the threat of danger has to be eliminated first. As always, please feel free to leave reviews because I always read them and take each one into consideration. Happy reading!**

—

_The White House Bunker_

As Russel and Dalton entered the briefing room, military and high-ranking personnel were already seated around the table tasking away. When they saw Conrad enter, they rose to their feet swiftly before being gestured by the President to sit back down.

"What's the latest update?" The President asked.

"At least fifteen dead and thirty injured—of those thirty, ten are in critical condition, sir. Those are only the people accounted for outside. We haven't received any word on whether or not it's safe for response teams to enter." Replied one of them.

An expression of desolation and despondency pillaged Conrad's facial features.

"There is also no word of Bluebird yet, Mr. President."

Conrad had to grab ahold of the back of one of the chairs to steady himself and a few members of his staff went to his aid, but he brushed them off and informed them that he was fine. In reality, he felt as if the world was closing in around him. He knew there were going to be fatalities and that was already hard enough to grapple with, but if Elizabeth were among them, he didn't think he could take it.

"We have confirmation with the FBI that a perimeter has been secured. All roads going to and leaving the airport are blocked as well as the surrounding areas. All airports are shut down and flights are grounded." Another voice informed.

"Tell them that anyone coming and going from the area needs to be rightfully identified. We can't have unknown people getting through." Their superior demanded.

"Do we know who's responsible?" Russel asked.

Admiral Ellen Hill spoke this time. "It's still too early to determine. Witnesses claim that a man quickly approached the secretary saying something along the lines of 'stop the boats'."

Russel nodded and said veraciously, "Ah, so this confirms my theory about Yasmin Nazar being the proxy target."

"Good news is that it has been confirmed that the thermo UAVs and air sniffers didn't detect any biological or radiological chemicals in the area." Admiral Hill continued.

The President's Chief of Staff rested his hands on the table, marginally slouched over.

"We've got to give them something. This is going to hit all the major news outlets within a matter of minutes."

President Dalton nodded in agreement. "Which is why we need to alert every single one of our embassies."

An unnamed voice answered, "Already on it, sir."

"The National Strategy for Homeland Security is waiting for your permission to activate the National Response Framework, sir. What should I tell them?" Admiral Hill pursued.

The President was preoccupied in deep thought and his eyes were gazed down at the floor.

"Mr. President?"

Conrad let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand down his face in a conflicted gesture. "Tell them to go ahead."

"Sir, we should also contact the McCord children and let them know what has happened—that is if the media hasn't gotten ahold of the story yet." Russel suggested.

"Yes. Right, of course." Conrad was completely inundated with the Dulles attack that his coherent thoughts were going right down the drain. "Call them immediately."

—

_The McCord Residence_

The McCord children were completely oblivious and unaware of what was transpiring. Allison and Stevie were busy making brownies for the celebration that was to take place at the State Department building that evening. Jason, however, was sitting at the edge of the couch hunched over in momentous focus; his eyes fixated on the television screen. He was in his typical insurgent world, preoccupied with playing his violent video games.

Allison looked up from beating the eggs when a loud explosion came from the television followed by rapid gunfire and Jason's subjugated shout of victory.

"You know mom doesn't like you playing those video games." She said deliberately.

"Well, Dad does so—" Jason replied flatly, his eyes not leaving the screen.

"Well, then _I_ don't like you playing those and I'm sure Stevie doesn't either." Allison folded her arms across her chest in annoyance and turned her gaze to Stevie as if to get her consensus.

"Correct. No, I don't. Our family deals with enough existent violence and _actual_ fatalities on a daily basis. We don't need your stupid video games to add to that." Stevie said in agreement.

Jason scoffed and shook his head. "Just leave me alone. You're making me lose my concentration."

"You could be helping us, you know. This is a big deal for Mom and you know how much she loves brownies." Stevie retorted.

Once again, Jason replied with no interest, "I can't stop now. I'm on a role here!"

Frustrated, Allison slammed her hand on the countertop. "You know what? I give up!"

"Finally." Their brother mumbled.

Stevie's phone began to ring and the timing couldn't have been better, or so she thought. She wiped her hands on her apron and answered it.

"Hello, this is Stevie."

"Stevie, it's Russel Jackson." It was clear that he was disturbed by something in the way his voice carried; deep and raspy, yet soft.

"Oh, Mr. Jackson! Was I supposed to be at that meeting today? I'm so sorry, I completely forgot! I-I'll leave right now!" She was in complete panic mode.

"No, no. The ...uh... meeting has been postponed." He replied apprehensively.

"Oh, thank God! I thought you were calling about some bad news that involved firing me. You scared me for a second there." She jested.

"I did call to relay some bad news and it does involve you—all three of you."

The line went silent.

"Mr. Jackson?" Panic had now flooded into Stevie's chest and her breathing was rapid. Alison took notice and quickly went to her older sister's side.

"A bomb was detonated at Dulles and your mom was the primary target." Russel was trying to keep his emotions in check. He was usually really good at concealing them, but he was having a rough time of it today.

"Oh my God!" Stevie's hand flew to her mouth.

"We also have confirmed reports that your father was also there. Unfortunately, we have no exact location on them as of right now, but we have every response team and high-ranking professionals working on that as we speak."

Allison knew their mother was in trouble. She didn't need to hear the conversation to understand. She ran to the table in front of the television where Jason was playing his video game and changed the channel back to cable news.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are doing? I was almost at my highest level!" He whined.

Allison's jaw dropped at what she saw unfolding on public television. Jason noticed her expression and followed her gaze to the screen and his own heart skipped a beat.

Travelers and airport employees were fleeing the building, scattering like ants. Response vehicles were spread out all over the place with their lights flashing and the SWAT team and FBI had their guns drawn. Stevie walked over and joined them in front of the TV in complete shock and disbelief.

"Yes." Stevie responded on the phone. "We are watching it on the news right now."

"We are sending security detail to your house this very minute for precautionary measures." Russel paused for a minute before speaking again. "We are going to do everything we can to bring your parents home. I'll call you when we have further information."

Stevie hung up her phone and sat down on the couch with her two younger siblings, embracing them in a group hug.

"Mom and Dad are going to be okay. They've been through situations like this before and have made it. They're going to be fine." Deep down Stevie knew that she was only trying to convince herself that everything was going to turn out fine, but in reality she couldn't possibly predict the outcome.

—

_Dulles International Airport _

The fire alarms continued to blare throughout the interior of the building, but Henry and Elizabeth had both acclimated to the noise and it barely phased them now.

Elizabeth was now talking in complete sentences, much to Henry's relief, but her words were still slurred and her voice was weak. He also took notice that her complexion was turning very pale, which usually meant a significant amount of blood was being lost. However, since it was so dark and the only light being illuminated around them was burning debris and the glow of faint sunlight shining lightly on Elizabeth's face, he couldn't tell where it was coming from. There were several instances when Henry had to slap Elizabeth's cheeks to keep her from drifting off to sleep and it made him feel so helpless, more so than he was already was.

_Where the hell are the emergency responders?_

He continued to caress his wife's face, feeling the blood starting to dry on her skin beneath his fingertips. Elizabeth let out a faint chuckle.

"What's so funny, babe?" He pondered.

"I always seem to be targeted with some kind of explosive device. I can name three already." She quipped.

Henry was not sure how to respond to her observation and it took him a few seconds to come up with a reply.

"And yet you've survived every single one of them and this one will be no different." There was a brief silence in their conversation before Henry muttered in vexation, " You'd think because a member of the cabinet was the main target of this attack, they'd be in here already."

"They know what they're doing, Henry."

"Well, are they aware that the Secretary of State is critically wounded and in a very vulnerable position?" His voice started to raise, his anger escalating. "There are others who also need attention and Matt can't possibly get to all of them, let alone treat them! His knowledge is extremely limited in that area. If the medics don't get here soon, a lot more people are going to die today."

"Are you done ranting because...Oh, God, I'm gonna pass out." Elizabeth swallowed hard.

"No, baby. No you're not." Henry began shaking her to try and keep her awake. "Stevie, Allison and Jason will want to see you conscious when they visit you at the hospital."

The mention of their children made Elizabeth try harder to push the feeling of sleep away. She had to show them—no , tell them that she was okay, but she had to fight the urge to close her eyes in order to do that.

_Just think about the kids, Elizabeth. _She thought. _Think about the kids._


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I'm sorry for not posting a new chapter for about a week! I had a really hard time writing this part of the story and I honestly have no idea why. I'm also sorry that this chapter isn't as, let's say realistic as it should be. I wanted to incorporate everyone's emotions and their state of mind during the attack and it turned out to be more fluffy than I originally planned. I also feel like this chapter is really boring, so please don't hate me?! Ugh! I am also going on vacation ****tomorrow and won't be back for a week, so I probably won't be updating another chapter until I get back, but I'll try and write when I can. Thanks again for all the lovely comments and support! If you have any ideas you'd like to throw in for the story please let me know!**

—

_State Department Building, 7th Floor_

_Conference Room_

Elizabeth's staff joined in complete silence as they watched the news unfold on a secure laptop. They couldn't believe this was happening! Of course they'd all been through some grievous and distressing times in the past, but nothing to this extent on U.S. soil since 9/11. No one, especially her staff, knew of Elizabeth's fate. It was evident from the news coverage that the damage and fatality rate was extremely high and that reduced their hopes even more. The intolerable feeling of helplessness was mutual.

Blake stood at the little coffee kiosk in the conference room stirring the same cup of coffee for the last few minutes. The devil on the side of his shoulder wished he didn't have one of the most firm and devoted connections with Elizabeth because he knew, or it felt like, he was aching the most. However, on the other shoulder, the angel was telling him that he knew she was strong and because of her strength, she'd make it. Blake couldn't pin his thoughts down. They were swirling like a vortex that wasn't going to let up anytime soon.

He couldn't bring himself to look over at the computer screen that played the same distressing clips over and over again. It kept reiterating the same information like a needle getting caught on a broken record and it was starting to irritate him.

"Can you please shut that off? I can't stand to listen to it anymore." He said with his back still facing them, his voice unidimensional.

"Why would you even ask that? Our boss could be dead and it looks like a lot of other people, too! It's important that we know what's going on!" Anger was clearly present in Daisy's voice.

"You just want the details so you can get something out to the press." Blake argued.

"We need to know details as they emerge and the secretary could walk out of that building any second and I'd like to know right away when she does." Daisy replied coldly.

Tension was growing briskly in the room and everyone was ready to verbally dispute their feelings and opinions at one another.

"_Or_ she may be dead and will never come out." Blake retorted under his breath.

Nadine stood up abruptly from her chair and slammed the laptop shut which made everyone startle in their seats.

"No one could have predicted this. And yes, it's absolutely terrible, but this is politics. It's nasty and unpredictable. We have to keep moving forward even when it's difficult, even we want to dig a hole in the ground and bury ourselves in it. This is our boss we are talking about—our friend. I understand that it's hard to anchor our emotions," Nadine paused and took a deep breath. "...but we have to pull ourselves together and do our jobs!"

The room went silent once again. No words were spoken except exchanged glances that said everything. There was no use in quarreling. It wasn't going to solve any problems or answer any questions.

"Nadine is right. Arguing isn't going to help accomplish anything." Matt consented.

"I still don't understand what's taking so long! Every minute counts, right?" Jay asked impatiently, his elbows on the table and his face rested in his hands.

"They have to ensure that the threat is no longer imminent. From what I've heard, the DOD and the DHS are already investigating the situation." Daisy replied.

Silence again.

Nadine spoke up once again and tried to change the subject. "How's the speech coming, Matt?"

"Uhhh ... Well, I just haven't been able to pull myself together to come up with something, but I'll keep trying. It's hard to write something for someone when you don't know if they're alive or not." Matt mumbled the last few words, but everyone still heard.

—

_Dulles International Airport _

Twenty minutes had passed since the initial explosion and Henry was getting restless. The dust and smoke was starting to settle into his lungs making him cough and his eyes were burning fiercely. He knew Elizabeth was most likely suffering the same—perhaps even more. He'd give anything to wipe her eyes clean of the tiny particles and to put a wet cloth over her nose and mouth to ease the burning and scratching. Talking was getting difficult without coughing in between each word spoken, but it helped both of them keep their focus on brighter things rather than the horror and hatred they were now being surrounded by.

Elizabeth managed to keep herself awake, but there was a fine line between consciousness and sleep, which the latter was becoming more and more difficult to avoid. It helped to have images of her children coursing through her mind and Henry's encouraging voice trying desperately to keep her focus by making conversation with her. It took every amount of strength she had to keep herself awake and that alone was taking a toll on her body.

The feeling in Henry's legs was beginning to diminish as he had been sitting in the same cross-legged position for quite a while. As much as he wanted to shift his legs, he knew he couldn't risk moving her any more than she already had been.

_It won't be much longer_. He thought.

It was as if God had heard his silent pleas for help because in that moment, distant shouting echoed through the crackling fire and the alert siren of the fire alarms. It took Henry a second to realize one of the voices was Matt calling "They're over here!"

Those voices were music to Henry's ears and he couldn't help the sob that escaped his lips as he clung tighter to his wife. An enormous storm cloud had just been lifted off his shoulders and a sense of relief flooded through his entire body. He felt weightless.

"Babe, help is here. Help is finally here." He soothed.

Elizabeth's only response was a quiet sniffle, which indicated that she was crying, too.

It all played like a movie before him in slow motion. Paramedics emerged from the darkness running towards them with a gurney and carrying medical supplies, their flashlights blinding Henry's eyes, his hand swiftly covering them in response.

As the paramedics got to them, questions were being asked hastily and Henry could hardly keep up.

"Does she have any heavy bleeding?" Asked one of the paramedics as he cut off her shirt to place EKG monitor wires on her chest.

"Ummm ... Uhhh ... Yes, no. I mean, I think so. She's been drifting in and out of consciousness and she's extremely pale." Henry stuttered. "She also hit her head upon impact." He knew that information would be helpful.

"Ma'am? I'm Andrew and these are my colleagues Damon and Ryan. We are here to help you, alright? I just need you to answer some questions for me. Where are you right now?" He asked using a light to examine her eyes.

Elizabeth squinted at the harsh light and took a few struggling breaths before answering, "Dulles International Airport, Virginia."

"Good." He said putting the flashlight back in the medical bag. "What year is it?" Andrew lifted her head cautiously off of Henry's lap to put a cervical collar around her neck.

Henry took the opportunity to move out of the way and let the professionals do their job. He didn't go far however, only to sit back down next to her, taking his hand in hers. In other scenarios, the paramedics may have told him to step aside immediately upon their arrival, but something was different about today.

"2016." Elizabeth answered.

"Who is the President of the United States?" He asked again while Ryan was simultaneously putting in an intravenous line to administer fluids.

This question caught Elizabeth by surprise. She knew who the president was, or so she thought she did. Conrad's name was on the tip of her tongue and she was desperately trying to formulate possible names in her head, but to no avail. It was getting harder for her to even speak.

When she didn't answer his question, Andrew replied calmly while fumbling with an oxygen mask. "That's alright, Madam Secretary. Just breathe deeply for me now." He placed it over her mouth and nose and she did as she was told.

"I found the source of the bleeding. We've got a secondary projectile in the left leg approximately five inches wide. It looks like glass." Damon spoke as he grabbed a tourniquet and began tightening it around her leg. "She's losing a lot of blood very fast. She's at extremely high risk of going into hypovolemic shock. We need to hurry."

The term secondary projectile wasn't new to Henry. He had heard it quite frequently during his time serving in the Marine Corps. Hypovolemic shock ... well, that was a term he had never heard before and it scared him.

Andrew looked at Henry with apologetic eyes. "We'll have to splint her leg before we move her. Any movement could cause immense damage or even sever and artery."

_But I've already moved her._ Henry thought.

He was really starting to panic now and his entire body felt clammy. He, too, almost felt like vomiting.

Ryan grabbed a splint from the gurney and handed it to Damon.

"Alright, Secretary McCord. We are going to move your leg into the splint and I'm going to need to to be as still as you possibly can. I'm not going to lie to you, this isn't going to be a pleasant feeling."

The voices were starting to drown out again and confusion was taking ahold of her. All she wanted to do was to just close her eyes and drift off. The paramedics must have taken notice because Ryan began to make conversation with her as a distraction.

"Stay with us, Ma'am. I need to to stay with us." He started. "Your agent there has decent medical knowledge, Madam Secretary. He probably saved many lives today including a little girl's. It was definitely a fight to get him to evacuate the building, though. He didn't want to leave it without you."

She was so disoriented that she didn't even make the connection about the girl and her mother she had met earlier, but Henry did. He could already predict the outcome and he knew it wouldn't be easy to break that news to Elizabeth when she was ready.

A weak smile formed on Elizabeth's pale lips and her gaze went to her husband. He brushed off his thoughts and smiled at her with so much adoration and love that all the fears and the temptation to sleep was obliterated. Ryan gave Damon and Andrew the go ahead to splint her leg.

A cry of agony escaped her lips, somewhat muffled by the oxygen mask and Henry held her hand tighter in his own until her leg was secure.

"You did so well, babe." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it.

"I'm going to need you to step aside just for a moment, Dr. McCord. We need to get the backboard underneath her."

Henry did as he was told and watched as the medics carefully slid the backboard underneath her body and placed an immobilizer around her head to keep her as still as possible in case of spinal cord injury.

They lifted Elizabeth onto the gurney and put a blanket on top of her before strapping her in.

Henry rejoined his wife's side and grabbed ahold of her hand once again.

"Okay, let's move! Go, go, go!"

With that, they ran through burning debris, rubble, and a sea of bodies into daylight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, guys. Here is another update! I'm so sorry if it seems rushed! I feel like I'm losing the realistic flow of this story with dialogue, personalities, and reactions and I'm not sure why. My initial goal was to try and make it seem like an unwritten episode, but now I feel like it's becoming too fluffy. Feedback is always the welcome! **

**_Quick disclaimer: The Jacob Whitman Society is a fictional organization along with Dylan Asher._**

—

_The White House Bunker_

"Does the state Department know anything, yet?" Conrad asked as he leaned forward, placing his hands on the back of a chair.

Conrad's Chief of Staff shook his head. "They've been back-channeling through different organizations with the same objectives and ambitions and still no target on the discrete group."

"Tell them to keep looking. We need all investigative personnel on this case." The President's stress lines protruded from his face—an austere countenance visible in every crease.

"Yes, sir." Russel answered before gesturing an officer out of the room implying that he go inform the Department of State.

"The Department of Justice, Department of Defense, and FBI-led Joint Terrorism Task Forces are all aware of the situation." Admiral Hill informed from her seat at the table.

President Conrad Dalton desperately wanted to shut himself in his office and be left to his own repentance and despair. He felt as if he were partly responsible for what happened. After all, Elizabeth was technically his employee. This domestic terrorist action happened under his watch and he didn't even see it coming. The Department of Homeland Security had become more knowledgeable around thwarting terrorist attacks since 9/11, but an assault carried out by the nation's own people was something that hardly reared its ugly face. Everyone was caught off guard, including the government's most elite. So, why was Conrad feeling he was to blame? It was his job, or he felt it was to Elizabeth, to keep his staff safe—to protect them from harm and yet he failed. He failed his staff and he failed the American people. He couldn't begin to imagine what it felt like to be in office on the morning of September 11, 2001. No matter how much a person may think they are prepared for an attack of colossal damage, the outcome is always uncertainty and confusion. That was exactly what Conrad Dalton was feeling and it was weighing him down.

"We've got an ID on the bomber." A female military officer declared.

This caught everyone's full attention and the room went completely silent. The sound of keys typing filled the silence before a photo appeared on the screens mounted on the walls around the perimeter of the room.

No one would ever expect a young man with his innocent and soft features to be a terrorist. He had a narrow face with brown hair and piercing bright blue eyes. A few freckles overlaying his pale skin on the bridge of his nose.

The officer continued her description. "His name is Dylan Asher, twenty-four years old." She continued. "He belongs to the anti-immigration hate group known as the Jacob Whitman Society, more precisely known as JWS. The NSA was able to gain access to all his social media feed and it has JWS written all over it."

"Who the hell is Jacob Whitman and why didn't we know about this organization?" Dalton asked discomposedly.

"It's a newly formed group, Mr. President. This is the first time they've made themselves known to the public." A new voice answered.

"And they've made quite the entrance." Russel ridiculed with a scoff.

With a heavy sigh Conrad spoke up again. "Was Dylan Asher on anybody's radar or watchlist?"

The female officer answered the President once more. "No, sir. Not that we are currently aware of."

Overwhelmed and debilitated, Conrad Dalton tightened his grip on the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white. He hung his head and took a few deep breaths to regain his composure.

"We should probably think about what we're going to put out there." Advised Russel in a gentle manner.

A few seconds passed before Conrad acknowledged Russel's proposal. "Yes. Yes, or course. Set up a national address for later this evening. I don't want to keep our nation waiting. We can't afford to show any hesitation or weakness."

Weak. That's exactly how he was feeling. Weak in protecting the country, weak in protecting the asylum seekers, weak in the response to the attack and weak in the responsibility of protecting his Secretary of State; his friend, his ally. He still had no word if she was alive or dead and because of the delay on her status, he was beginning to think it was the latter.

Russel cleared his throat before speaking in almost a whisper, "Sir..." He paused for a brief moment, "...should we call in Deputy Secretary of State, Steven Cushing?"

Russel knew the timing to that question was inopportune, but without word of Elizabeth McCord's position, they had to get Cushing in quickly.

A lump formed in the President's throat and he to swallow hard to make it go away.

"Yes. Go ahead." That was all he could manage to say or else he knew he would break down.

—

_State Department Building, 7th Floor_

_Conference Room_

The secretary's staff and other members of the state department were gathered around the table. Laptops were broadcasting breaking news and others presenting documents. Cups of coffee were everywhere and papers scattered. Notepads lay open and landline operated phones were placed next to everyone at their disposal.

They looked exhausted. Hands were supporting heads— either under chins or resting on foreheads and their expressions were varied. The only feeling that was mutually shared was immense grief. The live news footage was something out of a horror movie: screaming and crying, dismembered limbs, dead bodies and blood—a lot of blood.

Witness testimonies shared similar information about a bright light followed by a deafening explosion and immediate panic. The FBI and SWAT team were filing through doorways and windows and firefighters had their suits on following close behind.

Jay was staring at the computer screen when a familiar figure caught his eyes as it emerged from the building seemingly carrying a young child in his arms. The camera zoomed in on the scene and it took him a minute to register who the face belonged to. Jay's heart skipped a beat when he realized it was Matt, one of Elizabeth's agents. An icy shiver of relief flooded through his entire body from head to toe and a smile formed on his lips.

"Y-you won't believe this." Jay stuttered in disbelief and turned the laptop to the other staff members.

Eyes widened and jaws dropped in response.

"Wait! Is that Agent Matt?" Daisy asked excitedly as she leaned in for a closer look.

"That's good, right? I mean, if he's alive shouldn't the secretary be to?" Matt asked hopefully.

Gazes exchanged as of trying to read one another's feelings.

"But, where are the other detail?" Blake observed.

There was a pause in the conversation and any hope that was planted in them was immediately diminished.

"We need to keep a positive outlook. Just because Agent Matt was the only one to escape at this exact moment doesn't mean the others aren't trapped by debris or unable to get out due to injury." Nadine was doing her best to keep her composure.

She knew she was an authoritative figure amongst Elizabeth's staff and if she could keep her emotions together, it would give hope and assurance to everyone else.

Bewildered, Matt questioned, "But why would he leave without the secretary?"

"Perhaps he had no choice." Nadine replied.

Jay sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "I don't know about you, but I could never forgive myself if I left a child in a situation like that. I know the secretary wouldn't either. Maybe she told him to take the youngster and go."

Before anyone else could utter another excuse as to why one of her detail had left without the Secretary of State, a team of paramedics that were huddled around a gurney rushed through the same side entrance that Agent Matt recently emerged from.

Elizabeth's face wasn't visible right away, but Henry's was. It was only when one of the medics moved to open the ambulance doors that her features came into view. The feeling of grief that impregnated the conference room turned to one of consolation.

Matt's hand connected with the wooden table in an excited bang. "She's alive! I knew it!" An exuberant airy laugh escaped his lungs.

"Oh my God! I can't believe it!" Daisy exclaimed as she rose to her feet.

Nadine stood silently and her fingertips met her smiling lips.

"I told you she was a fighter! Well, I thought it. The words just didn't come out." Blake quipped.

Hugs and sounds of laughter filled the room. They were aware that there were still many things to accomplish and a terrorist organization to thwart, but in that moment nothing else seemed to matter. The secretary was alive.

_The McCord House _

The McCord children embraced each other with tearful, but joyful hugs as they witnessed their parents retreating from the airport building alive. Allison and Stevie sobbed in relief and a tear or two even fell from Jason's eyes, though he would never admit to it. Those aching minutes of panic and the unknown were unbearable to the point where it made them feel sick to their stomach. It was all too familiar. When their mother's whereabouts were unknown during the coup in Iran, they at least had their father to comfort them, this time they didn't. They had to rely on one another for solace.

"I'm just glad that they're together. Mom would have been so scared without him." Allison said as she wiped the warm tears off her flushed cheeks.

Henry had informed them that morning that he was going to surprise Elizabeth by joining her in her achievement and they were glad he ultimately went because she wasn't alone.

"I wish we could be with them." Allison stated again as she rested her head on her older sister's shoulder.

"Yeah, but I doubt we'll be able to. The security is going to be heightened and they'll never let us through." Jason said glumly.

"Don't say that! Of course we'll be able to go visit! I mean, she's our mom!" Allison fought back.

Stevie shot her brother a look of frustration. "Knock it off, Jason!" She turned her head to the other side of the couch back to Allison.

"We'll get to see Mom and Dad when they tell us we can. Dad probably wants to be alone with Mom for awhile. Until then, we wait to hear from them."

"I don't know how long I can wait." A sudden realization hit Allison. "What if Mom dies before we get to see her? I don't even think I told her I loved her this morning."

Stevie pulled Allison into a tight embrace and ran her fingers through her younger sister's hair. This was the first time Stevie didn't have an encouraging remark to help soothe Allison's fears. Jason just sat cross-legged on the couch with his hands clasped in his lap fiddling with his thumbs. They all processed their emotions differently, but they all felt it the same.


End file.
